Thomas looked at Jason as he, sarcastic of course, that they were part of a suicide team, but it was obviously not too far from the truth. Jason's team was always assigned on the most dangerous missions, and thus the veterans of his team regularly saw new faces join and eventually leave their ranks. But some came through alive, and Thomas counted down the days left in the Marauders, and then he would leave the crew at the closest Galactic base. And from there, home to Mars. 

Jason recited the same poem for himself, the same as always, and the one that had followed Jason through his career. He then asked the crew if they had remembered everything and/or they had any last questions. Thomas didn't have anything to ask, his search for answers would begin once they landed on the surface. And then Jason asked if anyone had any stories to pass the time. Thomas had plenty of stories, but he wasn't the best story-teller. His stories usually evolved rather slowly and without anything other than facts, facts, and more facts. Instead he looked at Jason and gave him a small smile. 

"Why don't you tell us a story instead, Captain? When we were tasked to search for an old transport ship last year...Which model was the ship again, Sir?"